Doe and Panther
by SaigeXantara
Summary: It is the spring of 1982, about half a year after the murder of Lily and James Potter. Lord Voldemort has fallen, the trials regarding the guilt or innocence of suspected Death Eaters are in full force and Severus Snape, a young man of just twenty-two, finds himself taking charge of an endeavor he'd never imagined to take on.
1. Chapter 1

To whoever reads this: thank you for taking a look at my scribbles. I've had this hiding in a dusty part of my computer for years, but recently a friend encouraged me to get it out there and see what others would think of it. This is my very first try at fanfiction and also the first time I've published anything online. Quite frankly it's the scariest thing I have ever done - so please, judge kindly ;) If you have any questions or advice regarding my writing or this story, feel free to contact me :)

This is a Harry Potter Fanfic about Lucy Aislinn Snape, a little girl of six years old and younger sister to Severus Snape. At the beginning of the story we find ourselves in the spring of 1982, about half a year after the murder of Lily and James Potter. Lord Voldemort has fallen, the trials regarding the guild or innocence of suspected Death Eaters are in full force and Severus Snape, a young man of just twenty-two, finds himself taking charge of an endeavor he'd never imagined to take on.

Doe and Panther

Chapter 1.

I sat in the wild and neglected garden, hidden behind the fast growing thistles. Crouched down I looked at the dragonflies hovering at the surface of the pond, without paying attention to the fact that my skirt was dangling in the mud.  
I knew the matrons couldn't see me here, hidden behind the musk thistles – this was my place, my secret refuge, where I occupied myself with my secret.  
I had paid close attention to whether anyone else could do it too, but none of the other children seemed able to. Nobody seemed to be carrying a secret like mine, nobody bragged about tricks no one else could do and nobody acted any different than usual. So I hadn't told anybody and hid out in the wild of the garden at the pond, secretly enjoying a secret that was mine, and mine alone.  
I held my hand above the water, my palm facing down. The water silently rippled in the soft breeze and the dragonflies buzzed curiously around my fingers. I ignored the insects and closed my eyes, concentrating until I could feel it tinkling in my fingertips. For a moment my fingers felt warm in the cool air – and then they felt wet.  
I opened my eyes and smiled as pleased as punch when I saw the water that had come up, like a hand from water was reaching for mine. Five fingers were lying wet and cold against my own fingers, while the dragonflies were swarming around them. They didn't understand why the water came up, of course, and I giggled as I wriggled my fingers. The water-hand did the same, as if it was waving. When I touched the watery fingers they fell apart in a big wave, but the splash I had expected never came – the water simply wobbled silently, as if it wanted to keep my secret just as much as I did.  
I could do more than just play with the water; flowers moved their petals when I touched them, and at times the wind blew just as I wanted it to. I could write in the sand without using my finger or a stick, and sometimes, if I wished for something, like the toffees of Mrs. Carlyle, I found them in my pocket a little later, without someone giving them to me or me taking them.  
Somewhere I'd like it if the other children – or at least one of them – could do it too, so I could share my secret with someone and could hide behind the thistles with them, practicing our tricks, but because no one else seemed to be able to do it I kept it to myself.

I had told someone once, though, when I had just found out about the things I could do. I had been more than eager to tell Thomas, who had gone with his new family a long time ago now. He had been my closest friend ever since he came to the orphanage and we had always been together – but when I showed him what I could do with the water he had called me a creep and he refused to play with me ever again. When his new family came to pick him up I had tried to hug him goodbye, but he had backed away from me. That day I had decided not to show anyone who couldn't do it himself, in case I would frighten them, in case they might be jealous or in case the matrons would find out and perhaps would be angry with me.  
I blinked my eyes when I felt tears coming up and rubbed them away with the back of my hand. The words Thomas had spat at me when we parted still sounded in my head as if it had only been yesterday, and I shook my head to silence them and to put them away. I didn't want to think of Thomas; not of the harsh way we said goodbye and not of the fun we had had before I'd tried to let him in on my secret. It didn't matter that I usually played alone since he'd left – I'd rather play alone that to have those words spat at me again.

"Lucy! Come in for a moment please, we'd like to have a word with you!"  
Mrs. Primrose's voice ripped through my contemplation and I looked up, startled. Did she see what I did with the water? Had they noticed toffees missing from Mrs. Carlyle's jar? My heart suddenly beat high up in my throat and my hands were shaking as I wiped them off on my skirt. I sighed deeply as I saw the muddy splatter on the seam and hoped they wouldn't see that too.  
"Lucy!"  
'Yes, Mrs. Primrose, I'm on my way!' I hurried to reply. I got on my feet, checked one last time if I hadn't forgotten anything, and ran to the orphanage.

Inside Mrs. Primrose, Mrs. Carlyle and Mrs. Shankly were waiting in what we used to call the tidy room, where they welcomed the visitors.  
I wiped off my feet on the doormat in the kitchen and tried to push a loose lock of hair back in my braids, before I took a deep breath and walked into the room. At least the orphanage's matrons weren't waiting in their office, I tried to calm myself down. If you'd done something wrong the matrons usually waited in their office, so perhaps there was nothing wrong at all.  
"Sit down, Lucy," Mrs. Primrose said, gesturing to a wooden stool in front of them, and I sat down.  
"We'd like to have a word with you for a moment," she continued, and I nodded, wondering what it was they wanted to have a word about.  
The orphanage's matrons looked at each other for a moment and it seemed as if none of them knew what to say next. However, when Mrs. Shankly continued, she sounded as firm and steep as usual.  
"We have a visitor that would very much like to meet you," she said – and I knew what that meant.  
If we had visitors that would very much liked to meet a child, it meant that those visitors wanted to take the child home with them to take care of it. It happened quite often a child left the orphanage, but usually that were the younger children. The elder ones stayed at the orphanage, apparently the people who came visiting preferred a younger child. I had just turned six, and even though I had seen a lot of people visiting, no one had ever said they would very much like to meet me – they had always chosen the little ones.  
I looked from Mrs. Shankly to Mrs. Primrose and finally to Mrs. Carlyle, and I didn't quite know what to say.  
If the visitors that would very much like to meet me liked me, they perhaps would take me with them, and perhaps I should cry and beg if I could please stay in the orphanage – or perhaps I should be happy that someone wanted to give me a family?  
I didn't know. I was so used to the little children being chosen over me, I couldn't imagine it would be any different this time.  
Mrs. Primrose seemed to be taking my speechlessness for fear and smiled kindly from her nice, high-backed chair.  
"Do you remember we told you that you were born here, and that your mother asked us to keep you with us until someone would come for you?"  
Of course I remembered. After I had realized none of the matrons was my mother and none of the other children were my brothers or sisters, I had bugged the matrons about how I got here until they'd told me. Apparently my mother had come here when she knew she was expecting me, and I was born here. After that she had given me my names, Lucy Aislinn Snape, and she had asked the matrons to keep me here and take care of me, until someone would come for me and take me home.  
I had often asked the matrons why she hadn't just taken me home with her herself, why I had to wait here for someone to come for me, but all they'd told me was that she couldn't take me with her. Why she couldn't, I had never known, and as time passed, it mattered less and less. No one had ever come for me as I lived a quiet and peaceful life at the orphanage, and after six years I didn't care anymore if someone would.  
Only now someone had. No one said it out loud, but I could see it in the smile of Mrs. Primrose, and the way Mrs. Shankly and Mrs. Carlyle exchanged looks. I looked at them slightly hesitantly.  
"Did my mother come back for me?" I asked carefully. I still wasn't sure what I felt, what the quiver in my voice was – fear or happiness?  
Mrs. Primrose's eyes flickered swiftly to the other two matrons next to her, her smile slightly fading.  
"No, dearie, not your mother," she continued a wee bit softer, as if she was afraid that would shock me. I didn't understand why it should – I had never seen my mother and sometimes the fairy tales Mrs. Carlyle used to read to us before bed seemed more real to me than the possibility that she would come back to me some day. It mattered little to me if she would or wouldn't be here today.  
'The young man that has come for you is your brother', she continued – I did not miss how she replaced the careful "visitor who would very much like to meet you" with a much more straightforward "young man that has come for you".  
My heart leapt to my throat again, though I still did not understand why.  
Perhaps it was fear for what was waiting for me now, not knowing who this young man was, this brother, or where he would take me. Perhaps it was excitement; I had never known any life outside the orphanage, I had never had a brother… That surely offered new adventures to investigate. Or perhaps, it was the sole fact that someone truly _had_ come for me now, after all those years in which I had come to believe it was all a fairy tale they had told me just to soothe me.  
"He is waiting for you in the Tea Room," Mrs. Primrose said gently, bending forward a bit. "Would you like to meet him?"  
What was I supposed to answer? I didn't know, I couldn't think of anything I should say. I simply took Mrs. Primrose's hand when she held it out to me, and went with her as she left the tidy room.

The Tea Room, which was also the Breakfast Room and the Dining Room, was empty. I could hear laughter coming from upstairs; apparently the other children were playing there, and I wondered if the matrons told them to keep away from the Tea Room.  
Mrs. Primrose led me through the door and then let go of my hand.  
"Here she is, sir," she said, as she walked back to the door.  
"We will be waiting to hear of your final decision on our office," she added, and then she left the Tea Room, closing the door behind her.  
I stood silent for a moment, looking at the door behind me. I felt torn between the urge to open the door and hurry after Mrs. Primrose or to run up the stairs to play with the others, and the curiosity to whom would be waiting for me here in the Tea Room.  
I chose the latter.  
When I looked up and let my gaze wander through the Tea Room, I saw a man.  
He sat at the table the matrons usually occupied during breakfast, dinner and teatime. Though he looked a great deal older than me, I could understand why Mrs. Primrose had called him a young man, for he certainly was younger than the matrons. He didn't have wrinkles like Mrs. Carlyle had and his hair wasn't grey, like Mrs. Primrose's, but black. He wasn't as tall as Mrs. Shankly, however, though he did seem like a tall man to me.  
I saw him nodding at the door that had just swallowed Mrs. Primrose, though she had already left, before he turned his head and met my gaze. His eyes were as black as his hair and much more intense than any of the matrons' as they inspected me over his hooked nose.  
I didn't know what to say, or if I should say something at all. When Mrs. Primrose told me I had a brother who had come for me, I had expected to recognize him somehow. I had expected we would look somewhat alike, share the same hair or eyes.  
But this man seemed as much as stranger to me as all the visitors I had seen during my six years at the orphanage. The black hair hanging alongside his face didn't look like my red hair at all, just as his dark black eyes didn't resemble my blue eyes whatsoever. I don't know what I had expected, if I was supposed to smile at this man, rush to his side, perhaps even embrace him - I didn't feel any urge to do any of it, I could only look at him and wonder "what's next?"  
The man with the dark hair and eyes stood up, and I saw he was dressed in clothes I had never seen before. Though it didn't quite look like my skirt, when I saw the black fabric flowing down from the man's shoulders down to his ankles, I thought he was wearing a dress, and I couldn't help myself giggling.  
A frown rippled over his forehead.  
"Lucy."  
I immediately stopped giggling when I heard my name, pronounced by a deep, dark voice I had never heard before. I felt my cheeks turn warm and red, and I stared at the toes of my worn-down shoes.  
The silence after that strange voice said my name seemed to fill the Tea Room in a way not even all the children in the orphanage could, and I was afraid to break it. But as it continued, it seemed to become heavier, until it weighed so much I couldn't stand it anymore.  
I hesitated for one brief moment, and then lifted my chin and looked up.  
"Yes?"  
He seemed to hesitate too, and then walked towards me. He opened his arms a bit, but then held them to his side again, as is he didn't know what to do with them. He didn't smile, but gazed at me with those piercing dark eyes as he came to a halt a few feet away from me.  
"I'm your brother."  
I shrugged. "Yes, I know. I mean – that's what the matrons told me. That my brother had come for me."  
Now that he spoke more words, I could hear a difference in our tongues. He had an accent that sounded different from my own – somehow he sounded clean and precise, where my own speech sounded somewhat rougher and song-like in a slightly peculiar way. I remembered more visitors having a different accent, but only now did I realize the difference with my own.  
He nodded. "Indeed. I promised my... our mother I would go here and take you home with me."  
He remained silent for a moment, and so did I, not knowing what to say.  
After an instant, he opened his mouth, but closed it again without saying a word. His eyes moved swiftly from left to right before wandering over my face, as if they were looking for something.  
"Will you come with me, Lucy?"  
I frowned, studying his face. The face of someone I had never met before, who I had never seen smiling or laughing out loud and who didn't look like me at all. A stranger whose voice seemed dark and distant, and who didn't reach out to hold or hug me, and who, so far, made me feel uncomfortable and a little frightened with his aloof attitude. But who was said to be my brother – my family.  
I followed the lines of his face with my gaze, followed them until I met his eyes, and I saw he was watching me, too.  
His eyes were examining me in a way I didn't immediately understand – because it didn't meet up with the awkward and slightly chilly position he maintained. The look in his eyes wasn't cold or unresponsive. It seemed uncomfortable, without a doubt, but also questioning, even a little bit pleading.  
My frown smoothed a bit as I slowly realized that I wasn't immediately obliged to come with him – he was asking me.  
I tried a careful smile that I hoped wasn't too quivery, and took a step towards him.  
"What is your name?"  
He blinked his eyes and seemed to be taken a little aback by my question.  
"Excuse me?"  
"What is your name? Or should I just call you "Brother"? I mean, you know my name, too..."  
The bewildered look remained on his face, but for a moment I thought I saw the hint of a smile shivering around his lips.  
"I um... Severus. My name is Severus."  
"Severus," I repeated. My careful smile broadened a little bit.  
So I had a brother named Severus. A brother who seemed a lot older than me, didn't really look like me, wore clothes I had never seen before, spoke in a different tongue than I did and who seemed to maintain a distant attitude – but who seemed to be able to at least smile a little bit sometimes.  
He couldn't be that bad if he could smile, could he? And I liked his name – Severus – it sounded like a whisper.  
"Lucy," I heard him say – it sounded as if he was trying out my name just as I was trying out his, and for the first time I also heard the tiny trace of a hesitant smile in his voice.  
My own wavering smile slowly widened a little more, and I took a step closer to him. He frightened me less when he had that spark of a smile about him – if perhaps it could touch those deep, black eyes, I'd even feel happy. The possibility surely was there, and now I had felt it I had to know. And if I stayed here at the orphanage, I'd never know.  
Besides, he'd said he had promised his mother he would take me home. My mother. Our mother.  
I closed the distance between us with a last step and took his hand.  
His hand was much bigger than mine, with long, thin fingers that felt cool against my skin. His skin wasn't as soft as mine or as Mrs. Carlyle's, but a little rough, and I stroked it in an impromptu attempt to smooth it.  
For a moment his hand trembled, as if he wanted to pull it out of my grasp, but the long fingers stayed within mine and I felt a hand upon my head. He stroked my hair, cautious, as if he hadn't stroked many heads before.  
I looked up at him and smiled fully at him this time, holding on to his hand more firmly.  
"When shall we go home then?"

It didn´t take long for me to pack the minor belongings I owned, and in less than an hour I had my worn-out clothes, trinkets and the few stuffed animals I had packed inside a trunk. My goodbyes to the other children were said swiftly – I wondered if I was supposed to cry as I knew I would probably never see them again, but there were no tears rising in my eyes or my heart, nor did I feel the need to create them. And thus I waved at the other children before turning my back to them, without any grief or sorrow.  
My goodbyes to the matrons took a little longer; Mrs. Primrose pulled me up to her chest and hugged me tightly before letting go of me, stroking my messy braids as she wished me all the best. Mrs. Carlyle handed me a bag of toffees, accompanied by the words "so you won't forget us, like we won't forget you", and gently kissed my cheek, and Mrs. Shankly stroked my face as she looked at me sternly and told me to be a big girl now.  
After that, my newly found brother took my trunk from Mrs. Primrose in his one hand, and my own hand in the other. He thanked the matrons for taking such good care of me with his deep voice, and then he walked me out of the orphanage, to the cab that was waiting for us at the front door. The driver loaded my trunk in the cab's boot, as Severus helped me onto the backseat next to him, and then we were off. I glanced over my shoulder to get a last look at the place where I spend the first six years of my life, seeing the matrons and a few children waving farewell on the road. I felt obligated to wave back, until a curve in the road took them from my side and they were gone.  
We stayed silent as the cab drove through the slightly rough scenery that surrounded the orphanage. Severus had taken out a book and was reading, his dark eyes swiftly moving over the tiny letters on the yellowish pages.  
I had a thousand questions I wanted to ask, but the look of my stern brother being so completely absorbed by the thick volume on his lap made me fear he might be angry with me if I disturbed him, and therefore I kept my eyes on the changing scenery out the window. Twilight was already painting the trees and mountains on the horizon with its soft touch of grey, and I knew it wouldn't be long before it would be too dark to see anything but shadows and stars.  
I settled in a bit more comfortable against the worn out upholstering of the cab's backseat and laid my cheek against the rough fabric. The soft humming of the cab's engine, the rustling when Severus flipped a page and the warmth coming from the heater, together with the twilight creeping in made me feel sleepy, and I tried to suppress a yawn.  
It didn't take long for my eyes to start drooping, and by the time twilight had turned into velvety darkness, I was sound asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

It was hours later when I woke up at the touch of long fingers shaking my shoulder. I yawned and rubbed my eyes to look up in a pair of black ones even darker than the night sky outside.

"We're here," said Severus softly. As I sat up he opened the cab door and slipped outside. I heard him and the cab driver take out my trunk and I scrambled out of the cab as well, just in time to see Severus pay the cab driver and put my trunk on the pavement. Still sleepy, I got off the road went to his side when he beckoned me so the cab could drive on, and we were left alone in the dark, narrow street. Without a word Severus moved to the closest house; a brick building with a black door in a long line of identical houses. The street lamp in front of it was broken and the pavement, the door and windows were cloaked in shadow. He opened the door and shot me a glance over his shoulder; he didn't need to beckon me again for me to realize I was to follow him. The room we entered was lit only by the moonlight slipping through the curtains and in that vague light for a moment, it seemed the walls were covered in small, rectangular pillows. Then a flame flared up next to me as Severus lit a candle, and I saw that what I had taken for pillows were in fact the backs of rows and rows of books, lining almost every inch of the walls. A candle-filled lamp hung from the ceiling, unlit, and underneath it were the dark shapes of a sofa, an armchair and a table. I didn't get any chance to closer inspection, however, for Severus opened a door hidden in the book-covered walls and took the candlelight with him. I followed him as he hauled my trunk up a narrow staircase to an equally narrow landing. In the flickering light of the candle I saw three doors; Severus opened the second one and stepped back for me to enter it.

"This will be your bedroom. You must still be tired, you can go to sleep. We'll unpack your trunk in the morning and see if you need anything else. I'll be in the next room should you have need of me – it's the first door from the stairs." He put the candle on a small bedside table and moved back to the landing with brisk, long strides. He held there for a moment and shot me a hesitating glance over his shoulder. "Um – goodnight," he said after a short silence, and then he left, leaving the door slightly ajar. I heard his footsteps go down the stairs and looked about the room as I heard the door downstairs close.

It was a small room with one small window, bare grey walls and bare floorboards. It held only a narrow bed, an old wooden closet and the small nightstand on which Severus had put the candle. I touched for a light switch, expected it to be behind the door as it was in the orphanage, but found nothing. I walked into the room and sat down on the bed. The nightstand and the windowsill were covered in a fine layer of dust, but the linens on the bed were clean, if a bit worn. I leaned over and moved the curtain to the side to peak out, but it was too dark to make out anything more than moonlit rooftops, brick walls and a hint of the cobbled street below and I let the curtain fall back into place again.

I wrapped my arms around myself and looked about the room. It wasn't at all like the orphanage, and it wasn't how I had imagined the house of a real family to be, either. It was cold here, and silent, and I missed the soft chatter and presence of the other children. In Mrs. Carlyle's stories the houses of families were warm and comfortable, not cold and bare and dusty…

I felt something thicken in my throat and rubbed my eyes before I took a deep breath.

Perhaps it would be better tomorrow; after all it was very late now and no doubt my new brother would be tired, just like me. I nodded to myself and got up to get my night gown from my trunk. I'd better get some sleep, just as Severus had said, and then tomorrow we'd get to know each other and start becoming a family. After all – I was surprised to feel something fluttering in my stomach – he'd said my mother had asked for me, had asked him to go and get me… The third door on the landing must be her bedroom, but no doubt she was asleep already, it being so late, after all.

I smiled to myself as I climbed into bed quietly, as to not bother the brother I knew was downstairs, and the mother I suspected in the room next to me. The cold, stiff linens made me shiver and I rubbed my feet together to get warm as I blew out the candle on the nightstand. Tomorrow would be the start of my new life – I was sure of it.

When I woke up again I found the room bathing in the pale sunlight that shone through the thin curtain. There was no clock, but when I pushed the curtain aside I saw the sun had risen high up in the sky already; it must be around noon. I wasn't used to sleeping in and was surprised no one had woken me up earlier; it took me a moment to realize I wasn't in the orphanage anymore and that the matrons who'd no doubt woken the other children hours ago would not come to wake me anymore. Perhaps Severus had expected me up hours ago – perhaps my mother had, too.

I quickly slipped out of bed and got dressed. I used my reflection in the window to re-braid and smooth my hair as well as I could, then opened the door and made my way down the landing and the narrow staircase.

The door at the bottom was closed but opened easily and I quickly found myself in the sitting room I'd glimpsed the night before.

It was a very small room and with daylight coming in through the window I could see the books lining the walls were very thick, bound in leather and rather dusty, that the sofa and armchair were old and worn and the table with its three chairs rickety. There was a worn-down rug on the bare floorboards, dark with both age and dust, and there was a trace of cobwebs on the wrought-iron candle-holder hanging from the ceiling.

Severus was sitting in the armchair, wearing black trousers and a white shirt and holding a cup of tea in one hand and a book in the other. He seemed completely emerged by the thick volume and didn't look up as I came in.

"Um – good morning," I said carefully, suddenly slightly unsure whether or not to disturb him. He looked up and for a moment didn't seem to recognize me.

"Oh – good morning," he then said in his deep voice. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you," I said. "You, too?" I added after a short pause, shuffling my feet on the rug. He nodded, his eyes already drifting back to the page. "Well enough, yes," he mumbled. "There is oatmeal in the kitchen, should you like some breakfast," he then said without looking up from the yellowed pages of his book. "If you need any help getting it…"

"No – no, I can do it myself," I answered, not wanting to bother him. "If you can just tell me where the kitchen is – "

He put down his teacup and waved his hand at the wall behind me; I followed his movement and saw how another hidden door sprung open, revealing white tiles and a scrubbed-down counter with a few cupboards over it. I quickly made my way inside and was happy to find a refrigerator and another small table with three chairs – the cupboards above the counter were too high up for me to reach on my own, but with the help of a chair I managed to find a carton of oatmeal in one of the top ones, and a bottle of milk in the refrigerator. After finding a spoon in one of the drawers and mixing oatmeal and milk I wondered whether I should stay in the kitchen to eat it, but then again Severus was my brother and if we were to be a family we'd better get on with it, so I went back to the sitting room and climbed onto one of the chairs at the table there to have my breakfast.

Severus didn't look up and only sipped his tea from time to time, so I ate my oatmeal in silence as I looked around the room, and when I finished my bowl I got up and went to look at the books, trying to drown out the question pressing in my mind by trying to decipher the titles on the leather backs. Most of the words were faded and a lot of them were too long or too complicated for me to read – the matrons had kept school hours and I got along quite well, but clearly my brother was better learned that the matrons.

When I'd made a round past all the walls and all the books I could reach I couldn't contain myself anymore and sat down on the threadbare couch.

"So um… where is Mum?"

"Hm?" Said Severus absent-mindedly, still glued to his book. "Mum… Oh, she's dead."

I stared at him. _Dead?_ No – no, that couldn't be. She had asked him to get me and bring me here – how could she possibly be dead? And yet he sat there, reading his book without even the slightest hint of him joking, even if it would be a rather poor joke.

"Dead?" I stammered. "W-when?"

"About a week ago now," Severus said in that same absent-minded tone. I shook my head, still staring in miscomprehension. "But… But you said –"

Now he did look up and I saw understanding dawn on his face. "Oh – I'm sorry, Lucy, that was rather tactless – I should have been more careful in telling you." He closed his book and put it on the armrest of his chair. "You'll have quite a few questions… Starting with why you're here when our mother is dead, I suppose?"

If it hadn't been for the understanding on his face and a spark of sorrow in those dark eyes I might have remained frozen, but I managed a feeble nod. He sighed deeply and folded his hands together, supporting himself with his elbows on his upper legs as he turned to me.

"I'll start with that, then. I'll be honest when I say I didn't know about your existence until quite recently. Just over a year ago, our mother became ill and it was her illness that cost her her life last week. It was on her deathbed that she told me about you for the first time. She told me she gave birth to you when I was fifteen and hid you in an orphanage at the Scottish border. It was her plan to go and get you when…" He looked away for a moment and took a deep breath before he continued. "When things here would become more manageable to raise a little girl. Unfortunately such a time did not present itself easily and six years past before tides began to turn – and at that same time she became ill and was physically unable to take care of you. When she knew she was dying she called for me and told me about you. She asked me to go and get you and to take care of you."

He took another deep breath and bit his lower lip. "So that is why I came for you – to honour my – our mother's last request, so you would be raised by family." He ran his hand through his hair before looking at me again. "Do you understand this, Lucy?" He waited, looking at me with those deep, dark eyes until I nodded slowly, biting my own lip. So there was no mother and there would never be. My mother had died before I'd had a chance to meet her... I was surprised how yesterday, with the matrons, I didn't really care whether or not my mother had come for me and yet hearing she was dead, I felt grief and sadness.

"Do you have any other questions?" Severus' deep voice cut through my thoughts and brought me back to the here and now. "Um – well, yes," I said carefully. "What about… about Dad? Is he…?" A shadow fell over Severus' face. "He's gone, too – but there's no love lost, there. You wouldn't have liked him. He was not…" The corners of his mouth twisted in a bitter scowl and he drew another deep breath. "You're lucky you'll never have to meet him."

The scowl around his mouth and the shadow in his eyes frightened me, but still I stretched out my hand and curled my fingers around his. It seemed to startle him and he looked slightly perplexed, but at least it washed that scowl from his face. "So it's just you and me then. That's fine." I smiled and hoped it looked like I meant it.

For a moment we were both silent and I had no idea if he was planning on continuing this conversation or to slip back into his silence again. "You have… you have a lot of books," I eventually said. He nodded. "I do. Do you like books?" I nodded too and was surprised to see that hint of a smile again. "What did you used to read in the orphanage?" "It was mostly Mrs. Carlyle reading them to us – you know, because of the little ones. But it was all sorts of stories, really." I looked around the room, at the walls padded with leather spines. "You must have a lot of stories here."

Severus shrugged. "Hardly, really. Actually, I got most of these for Hogwarts. It's – it's a school," he explained when he saw the question in my eyes. "It's where I work. I'm a teacher."

"Hogwarts." I ran the word over my tongue like candy. "That sounds like a story on its own." Again that hint of a smile. "I suppose it does. There are lots of stories there, so I guess it fits."

I smiled too. "Really? Can I go there one day, too?"

Severus' faint smile faltered and something changed in his face, as if shutters closed behind his eyes. He leaned back in his chair. "Perhaps."

There was something definite in the way he said that one word, but I couldn't think what I could have said wrong. Surely this place of stories – this Hogwarts – could be some common ground, a start to get to know each other? "What do you teach there?" I asked, leaning forward a bit.

The shutters behind his eyes became a brick wall. "I'd rather not discuss it," he said rather curtly. He took up his book again and I felt disappointment as he flipped it open. "Why not? I'd just like to know –" "I said I'd rather not discuss it, Lucy," he said in a sharp voice that did not accept any objection. I closed my mouth and, looking at his sharp profile and the eyes that now firmly looked at the book only, I felt a lump rise in my throat and my eyes grew watery. I'd never been snapped at like that before and I didn't understand. What had I done wrong? Why couldn't I know more about him – he was after all my brother, wasn't he? Didn't he want us to get to know each other, to be a family?

I got up from the couch and went back to my bedroom without a word. Tears dribbled down my cheeks as I sat down on the bed, staring at the bare room.

I had thought that to be taken away from the orphanage meant to be taken into a warm and loving family. I'd thought that behind that stern exterior, there could be no doubt my new brother cared about me, about his little sister and that we could be a family, even when he told me there would be no mother or father. That was how it used to be in the stories the matrons had told him.

Now, sitting here in this bare, cold room, in this strange house in a town I didn't even know the name of, I wondered for the first time if what they'd told us at the orphanage had been nothing but just stories.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3.

Within the next days we settled in a dreary routine. Severus woke me up every morning by tapping my door a few times before going down the stairs himself. With the house being old and bare, I was usually already wide awake when he passed my door on his way to the last door on the landing – it had turned out to be a bathroom – but I always waited until he tapped my door. After that I got up and went to the small bathroom myself to wash, brush my teeth and get dressed. In the orphanage the matrons had helped us with washing and getting dressed, but I quickly learned to do it myself; I'd realized quick enough Severus wasn't going to offer and I didn't really dare to ask.

After washing and dressing I'd go downstairs to find Severus at the table in the kitchen, usually having breakfast while reading one of his thick books. I made my own breakfast, mostly oatmeal or a sandwich, and we would have breakfast in silence.

Severus had found a local school where I'd enrolled two days after I'd come here and where I spend my days every day from 9.00 A.M. to 3.00 P.M. It was nice to be able to play with other children and be away from the house I now knew to be called Spinner's End, but when any of my new school mates asked me anything about where I lived or who the tall, dark young man was who dropped me off every morning I didn't elaborate beyond the basic answers and I never asked anyone home with me.

Severus made longer hours at the school where he worked, so he had given me a key to let myself into the house. Although Spinner's End did not feel like a home to me, I liked the hours I spend there on my own. It was a bit easier to breathe without Severus' aloof manner looming over me. At first I tried to read the books in the sitting room, but the letters were too small and the words too long and unfamiliar for me to make heads or tails of any of them. Besides that, I also had the distinct feeling my brother did not want me reading them, for even though I put all the books back where I found them, when he came home the first day he took one look about the room, shot me a piercing glance and told me curtly these books weren't suitable for children. After that I mostly confined to my room even if he wasn't there and played with the stuffed animals and trinkets I'd taken with me from the orphanage. With the house around me silent and knowing to be alone, I dared indulge in my secret and let my coloured pencils fly about the room like strange, wingless dragonflies. I stopped as soon as I heard Severus coming home – for some reason I never heard him open the front door, but the moment I heard footsteps on the floorboards downstairs my pencils and stuffed animals dropped from the air and I started colouring like any normal little girl would do until he'd call me down for dinner.

We had dinner at the kitchen table, too, mostly in silence. Every now and then Severus asked me about my day and I answered his questions politely, but whenever I asked him about his day I saw that wall rising up in his eyes again; the corners of his mouth would stiffen and he always answered that he's rather not talk about it. I tried not to show, but I felt hurt and rejected without even knowing what I did wrong, and after dinner I usually quickly went back to my bedroom again so Severus wouldn't see the tears in my eyes. Alone in my bedroom with my pencils zooming through the air I told myself that perhaps he didn't mean unkindly, that he never knew he had a younger sister and just had to figure out how to be a big brother, but it didn't take away the hurt or the tears. I'd never met anyone so distant and aloof and I didn't know what to do with it. I wanted to like him and to be kind to him, I really did, but with his long, heavy silences and brooding black eyes he mostly frightened me and although he sometimes made attempts during breakfast and dinner to make small talk, he shut me out as soon as I was trying to get to know him. The faint hint of a smile that I'd seen shimmering around his mouth became less and less frequent and I didn't dare to try and make him smile – with hardly even knowing him I didn't possibly know how.

When I'd been at Spinner's End a week he came home carrying two heavy books, not bound in leather but in red cotton, and with a picture on the front that instantly told me these were not like the books in the sitting room. They turned out to be fairy tales – by the Grimm Brothers and Hans Christian Andersen, it said in gold letters. Though I truly was very happy when he gave them to me, I only muttered a soft "thank you" before taking them and running upstairs again. That evening Severus' asked me if I could come downstairs and uttered that I could take one of my books with me, and I did, but the silence as we sat on the couch and in the armchair with our books on our laps was heavy, and after a tense half an hour in which every little movement of him made me feel jittery I asked if I could go upstairs again. There was a sort of sorrow in his eyes when he looked up from his own book and stared at me for a few moments before he nodded; I could feel it follow me as I slipped up the stairs, back to my bedroom. I knew he tried, with the books, with asking me to come downstairs, but by that time I was so used to keeping to myself I didn't know what to do with his attempts anymore. After that evening I didn't go downstairs to read again and stayed in my room until it turned dark outside and it was time for bed.

A month after I'd arrived at Spinner's End I found myself walking home on a very sunny spring day. It would be summer soon and wildflowers were pushing their way up along the pavement; they added unexpected dashes of colour to the dreary street and made me feel giddier than I had in weeks. The house was empty, as usual, and I poured myself a glass of milk before I went upstairs. I'd put up a few drawings on the walls and with the golden sunlight on them the room looked almost colourful. I closed the door behind me, opened the curtain a bit further to let in more light, flopped down on my bed and took out my books and my pencils. No matter the gloominess of life at Spinner's End, with the sunlight streaming in and the colourful bodies of my pencils and glittering trinkets flying about the room I couldn't help but smile, and soon I'd all but forgotten about the dull grey street outside or the dusty rooms in this house, emerged in a fairy tale of my own. So emerged I didn't hear any floorboards creaking and I didn't notice the curious scent that came from downstairs.

I giggled and beckoned at a red pencil, which zoomed around my head and made a somersault before joining its fellow pencils in their dance through the sunlit room. They looked like fairies with their colours and the gold stamp pressed in their sides, which glittered every time the sunlight touched it, and I beckoned more pencils, laughing out loud as they, too, zoomed around me.

Suddenly my bedroom door swung open to reveal Severus standing in the doorway. He had a tray of cookies in his hands but I hardly noticed the smell of cinnamon and chocolate. I noticed only his dumbfounded, expression, his wide eyes and his open mouth as he looked at the pencils flying around the room right in front of him. It took only a split second but it was enough to feel how a horrifying coldness drop into my stomach. I heard Thomas' parting words echo in my mind – _Nobody wants a freak of nature!_

The pencils dropped from the air and rattled against the floor as I shot him one anxious look before I quickly scrambled away from him, dropped down the other side of the bed and hid behind it.

He'd seen it – he'd seen my secret! He wasn't even supposed to be home yet, how could I not have heard him come home? And now he saw – what would he say, what would he _do_ now that he knew his little sister was a freak of nature? I pulled up my shoulders and wrapped my arms around myself. I didn't dare to look up, I didn't want to see the horror on his face like I'd seen on Thomas'. Would he send me back to the orphanage now, and tell the matrons that there was something very wrong with me and that he never wanted to see me again? The floorboards creaked and I froze. Trembling, I listened for footsteps and waited for his voice, for his anger.

Then something fluttered over the bed to hover in front of my face. It was one of my colouring pencils, I knew by the wooden texture, the red paint and the gold letters along the side – only it didn't look like a pencil anymore at all. Instead of a long, stocky body and the red tip, it now had the perfect shape of a red butterfly, fluttering with wood-like wings and unrolling a tongue shaped like the tip of the pencil it used to be. I sat up a little, wide-eyed, and carefully stretched my fingers out to touch it. I gasped when it sat down on my finger – it still felt like a pencil, cool and woody on my skin – and then it fluttered up and flew back over the bed, away from me.

Quickly I scrambled to my feet to see where it went. Severus was still in the doorway, holding a thin wooden stick in his right hand. He caught the butterfly with his other hand, very gently between his long fingers, and when he looked at me I saw the corners of his mouth curling up in the very first real smile I'd seen on him.

"How did you do that?" I asked carefully as I sat down on the bed again. His smile widened and something inside me fluttered when I saw it touched his eyes, too. "The same way you made them fly around your room. May I sit down with you? I think there is something I need to tell you."

"You're… you're not angry with me?" I asked softly. He shook his head. "Not at all – I promise. Oh, this is _fantastic_ ," he added softer, more to himself than to me. I narrowed my eyes as I looked at him – fantastic? Was he trying to mock me? – but his joy seemed genuine, and after a moment I nodded and allowed him to sit down on the edge of the bed. He released the butterfly and it fluttered it my shoulder, where it sat down and gently stretched out its wooden wings.

Severus ran his hand through his hair, still smiling. "Is this what you have been doing all along while you were up here on your own?" I searched his face for any sign that perhaps he was fooling me, that he was angry with me after all, but when I couldn't find any I nodded carefully. "How long have you been able to do it?" I shrugged. "I don't know… for a while, I guess… I could do it back in the orphanage, too. I used to make the water in the pond come up to me." Severus nodded thoughtfully. "Is there a reason you didn't tell me?"

I stared at him. "Well, of course – I mean, I didn't think you would want – I mean… I know it's not… that it makes me a… a freak of nature…" I turned my face away, but even from the corner of my eye the shock on his face was clear as day. "Who told you that?" I shrugged and wrapped my arms around my shoulders. I didn't want to think of Thomas anymore.

"Lucy, listen to me." I flinched when long fingers touched my chin, but when Severus turned my head back to look at him he did so very gently. "This does _not_ make you a freak of nature. It makes you very, very special." He hesitated and the corners of his mouth curled into a careful smile again. "It makes you like me – look." He took a purple pencil from the floor and tapped it with the wooden stick he still held in his right hand. Immediately, four very delicate purple wings sprouted from it as the stocky pencil-shape wriggled and reshaped itself, and then a purple, wood-like dragonfly zoomed around my head before landing on my knee and starting to clean its see-through, purple wings.

I stared at it with open mouth before looking up at Severus. "How did you _do_ that?" He chuckled – a low, deep sound I instantly liked. "I'm a wizard – and you are a witch. Which is nothing to be ashamed off," he added when he caught my shocked expression, thinking of ugly old ladies with warts whose noses could touch their chins. "I'll explain – hang on – " He waved the wooden stick again and next to the door, the tray of cookies rose up from the floor, floated over to us and landed on the bed. "Have a cookie and I'll explain some more." I tentatively bit a cookie and was pleased to taste chocolate chips. "I didn't know we had cookies," I said as I swallowed the first bite and took another one. Severus moved his hand through his hair again and looked slightly embarrassed. "We didn't – I made them just now. I was hoping it would perhaps… make you feel a bit more at home here. I figured all children like cookies." I tried to imagine stern, distant Severus baking cookies while wearing Mrs. Primrose's flowered kitchen-apron and couldn't help giggling. He shot me an affronted look, frowning. "What?" "Nothing," I said, still giggling, "I just can't really imagine you baking cookies." His expression softened a bit, though he still looked rather stiff. "Well, it's not something I usually do…" He took a deep breath and tried to ignore my giggling as I took another bite. "In any case. Explanations. I think it's easiest to start with Hogwarts… You do remember I told you about Hogwarts?" I nodded. "The school where you work." "Yes, but Hogwarts isn't like the school you go to – it's a school for magic, for witches and wizards, like us. Not everyone can do magic, so we can't tell everyone about it." He waited a moment and when he looked at me his eyes were apologetic. "That's why I did not tell you anything else about it before. I didn't know if you were a witch, and if you were not then you weren't allowed to know about any of this. I couldn't take the risk."

I thought this over. "So, all this time when you were not telling me about yourself or about what you did all day, it was because you couldn't tell me you're a – a wizard?"

"Exactly. But I don't have to do that anymore, not now I know you're the same." He sighed and leaned back a bit. "Well, at Hogwarts, I teach Potions, and there are other teachers who teach Charms, History of Magic, Herbology and Transfiguration, for example. Children go to Hogwarts when they are eleven years old and we teach them how to use their magic and how to control it. Normally I would stay at Hogwarts for most of the year, but since you are here I can't do that anymore. I can't take you with me to Hogwarts just yet," he said when I looked up at him enthusiastically. "You're too young, you'll have to wait. When you're eleven and get to go to Hogwarts, you'll stay there for most of the year yourself, just like me. But," he smiled faintly when he saw the disappointment on my face, "you'll never have to hide your magic in this house. You don't have to hide from me. And if there is anything you want to know you can ask and I will tell you – provided I know and am at liberty to tell you." He waited a moment. "Are there things you want to know, Lucy?"

I nodded as I finished my cookie. "Were mum and dad like us, too?" Something dark crossed Severus' face. "Mum was. Dad wasn't. He didn't like magic – actually, he didn't like anything much." "Oh," I said softly, hesitating for a moment. "Is that why mum… why she sent me to the orphanage? Because she thought dad wouldn't like me?"

Severus gave me a shrewd look. "You're a very clever girl Lucy, you know that? It was part of it, yes – Our father didn't like magic and he gave me and our mother quite a hard time for it. I told you before he was not a pleasant man. Our mother wanted to spare you that, so she hid her pregnancy and didn't tell anyone why she took that sudden trip to the Scottish border. She was planning to leave our father, but that was easier said than done, and by the time he died she had gotten sick and couldn't take care of you… The rest you know."

So my mother had sent me away trying to protect me… I smiled and nibbled my cookie. Knowing that Severus hadn't deliberately meant to push me away, and especially knowing that I wasn't the only one with my gift made me feel happier than I had in weeks – and indeed, more at home. Perhaps one day Spinner's End would feel like home to me; this, at least, was a start at last.

I reached for another cookie when I caught the look in Severus eyes, a softer look than I'd seen so far, that made his features look less sharp. I looked at him questioningly, but when he didn't seem to notice I took a second cookie from the tray and tapped it against his hand.

"Oh," he said as he blinked and his eyes became clear again. "No, thank you." "Are you alright, Severus?" I asked as I put the cookie back on the tray. "You looked very far away just now."

Something sharp flashed in those dark eyes and for a moment I was afraid I'd said something wrong, but then he shook his head and the sharpness disappeared.

"I'm fine. I was just thinking… You reminded me very much of another girl just now." "Really?" I asked. "What other girl? Is she a friend of yours?"

The deep breath he drew sounded very sharp and he didn't look at me, but the hands with which he reached for the tray were shaking.

"She was, once."

He drew another deep breath and got up from the bed. "I'll be taking these downstairs before you'll have crumbs all over your linens. I'll put them on the table – you can get them whenever you like." And with that, he left the room, leaving me slightly puzzled.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4.

Spinner's End was still grey, gloomy and dusty, yet something had changed since Severus caught me flying my pencils around. My brother, though still stern, silent and somewhat aloof, seemed more comfortable and was clearly relieved he didn't have to hide his magic anymore, for then I came down the stairs the next morning I found him waving the thin stick I'd understood to be a wand and have the teapot pour the tea by itself. We both had our books out at the breakfast table now, though mostly I looked on fascinated as Severus waved his wand about every now and then and had my oatmeal and milk flying in from the fridge and the dirty dishes to the sink where they'd start to clean themselves.

I didn't stay up in my room for most of the day anymore, but came down as soon as I heard Severus' footsteps downstairs. I learned he spend most of the afternoon preparing his classes for the next day and examining the work of his students – but instead of the neat, lined exercise-books I used at school, his students seemed to use big scrolls of a thick, waxy paper to do their homework on, and they usually covered the entire table as Severus worked through them. When he'd finished his work he'd start on dinner. I loved watching him cook; at first I pretended to read and peaked over the edge of my book, but soon I dropped the pretence and just sat in the kitchen as he cooked. I had expected him to do that by magic, too, but to my surprise he did most of it still by hand and his fingers moved fast and steady as they cut up vegetables and stirred in pans. I'd never seen anyone work so swift and confident at the same time; the matrons at the orphanage had hardly ever let us into the kitchen and even when making a cup of tea their hands had been shaky. Yet whenever he did use his wand I looked in awe as pans were lifted in the air or potatoes floated to our plates. After dinner we sat down on the sofa or the armchair – I soon made a game of trying to beat him to the chair, for it was incredibly comfortable to curl myself up in it with my book against my knees – and he would light the candles or the hearth-fire, again with his wand, and lose himself for a few hours into the pages of whichever book he was reading.

We didn't speak much, and yet something had become more comfortable between us. If it was time for me to go to bed I wished him goodnight – his stern posture made me keep away from embracing him, but after a few days I began to gently touch his hand as I walked past him on my way upstairs, and only a few days after he gave my fingers a soft squeeze as I did so and wished me goodnight, too.

The dreariness of our routine disappeared and by the time the summer holiday presented itself he usually had my breakfast made before I came down the stairs and I cleaned up little things around the house in the hours I was home alone. I tried making things clean up themself, as Severus often did, but always without success, no matter how determent I pointed at things or how severe I looked at them – even sternly telling them what to do didn't do anything. Then again, Severus always had his wand – apparently our household objects listened better when you had a wand.

On the first Saturday of the summer holiday I had just gotten dressed and was about the dash down the stairs when Severus knocked on my door and announced the Headmaster of his school had send him a message that he was needed at the school.

"Can you manage on your own for a bit? I will only be an hour or so," he said. "I'd rather not, but Dumbledore wouldn't ask if it wasn't important…"

"It's alright," I said, smiling as I squeezed his hand. "I'll just go finish my book. I'll see you later." A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth and he squeezed my fingers. "Alright then – see you in an hour."

I turned to get my book as I heard him walk down the stairs again. I'd already finished the fairy tales of the Grimm Brothers and I was almost through with Hans Christian Andersen, too – if Severus came back I'd ask him if there was anything in the bookcases downstairs I could read.

When I came down he had already left and I curled up in the armchair to finish the last fairy tales Mr. Andersen had in store for me.

It took me less than half an hour to finish the fairy tales of Hans Christian Andersen. I thought of going upstairs to get my pencils and draw a bit, but as I climbed from the chair I noticed something thin and wooden lying on the couch: Severus' wand. I couldn't remember he'd ever left it lying around before, he usually took it with him wherever he went. He must have been in a hurry today.

Carefully I picked it up and turned it around in my hands. It was made of dark wood with a carved handle and it felt smooth against my skin, a bit heavier than I'd expected. I ran my fingers over it from handle to tip, excited. This was how Severus made things move and how he lit the candles. This was what made the things in the house listen. Perhaps…

I looked about the room and let my eyes rest on the wrought-iron chandelier above me, on the cobwebs covering it like a thin, grey veil. On my own I was much too small to reach it, even with the help of a chair, but with the wand…

I took a step back, wand firmly in my hand, waved it and pointed it decidedly on the chandelier.

With a thundering crash it came down from the ceiling. I hastily jumped aside, eyes wide and trembling, but before I had any chance to recover from the shock enormous, roaring green flames flared up in the hearth. I shrieked and recoiled, tripping over my own feet when, on top of everything, Severus appeared from the flames, looking anxious and a bit bewildered.

"What happened – are you alright?" He said, his black cloak billowing around him as he stepped out of the hearth. I swallowed but couldn't find my voice and pressed my hands to my mouth, not sure if I should shake my head or nod.

His dark eyes darted from my shock-white face to the chandelier at his feet and he frowned. "How did you…?"

Then he caught the wand I still clutched between my trembling fingers. "You tried to use that, didn't you?"

"I'm sorry," I said in a very small voice, without removing my hands. "I didn't know it would do that… I just... wanted to do what you always do, and – and clean up a bit… as a surprise…" I shuffled my feet and didn't dare to look at him. Having your sister fly her pencils around the room might be alright, but having her crash heavy objects from the ceiling onto the ground was a different thing entirely.

Footsteps approached me and long thin fingers curled themselves around my hands and pulled them away from my face as Severus knelt in front of me.

"Lucy, look at me." I didn't want to, but his voice sounded so stern I didn't dare to disobey. His eyes looked at me severely, though not as upset as I'd expected.

"Listen to me. This is not a toy." He took his wand from my fingers and held it up for me to see. "Magic isn't as simple as to just wave a wand around and the rest will happen at will. You can't play around with it. Do you understand?"

I nodded again. "Good. Now, I will take this with me," he tucked the wand into his cloak, "and now I have to return to Hogwarts for a bit. Do me a favour and try not to crash anything else in my absence, alright?"

"I'm sorry," I muttered as I rubbed my eyes. "I know," he said and to my surprise his fingers caressed my hair for a moment before he stood up. "Just don't frighten me like that again."

He turned around to the heavy chandelier, pointed his wand and muttered something. The lamp flew up again and screwed itself back into the ceiling. He then waved his wand at the broken floorboards where the lamp had landed, and they too merged together as if nothing had happened. He walked back to the hearth, where he took a handful of glittering green powder from a jar on the mantelpiece. "This, too, it not for play. Don't touch this unless I tell you you can." He said as he looked at me over his shoulder. "I won't," I said softly. "Um – Severus? How did you know…?"

A thin, slightly mocking smile curled the corners of his mouth. "You did not actually think I left you here completely unsupervised, did you? There is a spell on this house, just so I get a signal in case anything is wrong. It doesn't detect your flying pencils, but it will notify me of anything that could mean you're in trouble."

"Oh," I muttered. "I'll… I'll be careful then."

He nodded, but to my relief the thin smile didn't falter. "Please do. I won't be long."

He threw the powder into the hearth, where giant green flames flared up again and I flinched, though he didn't seem to see it, for he said "Hogwarts!" stepped into the flames and disappeared.

When he came back some twenty minutes later I was at the sitting room table, working on a drawing that centred on a figure in a black cloak amidst a chaos of green flames. Something in my stomach jumped uncomfortable when green flames roared in the hearth again, but I bit my lip and tried not to show it when Severus stepped out of them.

"I didn't destroy anything else," I said softly as he took of his cloak and hung it on a peg next to the hearth. He smiled his thin smile. "So I see – well done." He bent over me and put a small book next to my drawing on the table. "I noticed you'd finished your fairy tales – I figured you could do with something new." He pulled back a chair and sat down at the table, too. "I know this one isn't as thick as your other books, but I think you'll like it… _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_. They're the fairy tales of the wizarding world." The corners of his mouth twitched. "If you're so eager to be a part of it, we might as well start introducing you."

Wide-eyed, I picked up the book, the green flames instantly forgotten. It was indeed a lot thinner than my fairy tale books, but also a lot older and bound in leather. The title was pressed into it in golden letters on the spine and the front cover, along with a picture of an old man with a long beard and a pointy hat who held a quill above a book. Perhaps it was because I now knew that most of Severus' leather-bound books were about magic, but this book seemed distinctly magical to me, more so than the fairy tales I had upstairs or any other book I'd seen before I'd come to Spinner's End. When I opened it I met pages that were yellowed and stained and even the black letters on them seemed old.

"Woah…" I whispered. "What are these about?"

"I suppose you'll have to read them to find out," Severus chuckled. "Do you like it?"

"Yes," I hurried to say as I put the book down, got up from my chair and threw my arms around him. "Thank you!"

He stiffened under my embrace, but didn't push me away and after a moment of hesitation patted my head gently, if slightly awkwardly.

Then he cleared his throat and made to get up. "I'm going to make some tea – can I get you anything?"

"Tea is fine, thank you," I said as I let go of him and climbed back onto my chair. As Severus disappeared into the kitchen I pushed aside my drawing and pencils, opened _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ and started reading.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5.

I spend the rest of that day and the Sunday after reading The Tales of Beedle the Bard. When on Monday I sat down at the breakfast table and propped up my book against the milk bottle, Severus announced he had to go out today and that I was coming with him.

"I need to get supplies for the next year of school, and I'm taking you along. You'll get to see a bit more of the world you and I belong in." I looked up so quickly I spilled my oatmeal.

"Really?" "Really," Severus said, smiling faintly. So get your coat and shoes when you've finished your breakfast and we'll be on our way."

He got up and left the kitchen as I wolfed down my oatmeal. After I dumped my bowl and spoon in the sink and ran a cloth over the table to clean up the spill I hurried after him. Severus was just putting on his cloak. I flopped down on the floor and put my shoes on, then snatched my coat from the peg next to the hearth and wrestled my way into it.

"Done!" I said slightly triumphant. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see in a bit." The faint smile had widened into a grin at the sight of my enthusiasm and Severus turned to the jar with green power on the mantelpiece. "Do you remember this?"

I froze as in my memory those roaring green flames flared up again.

"Yes – you said not to touch it unless you told me I could," I said carefully, hoping he did not mean what I thought he did.

"Precisely," said Severus. "Well, today I'll show you how to use it." A stone fell down into my stomach and suddenly my hands felt cold, but he didn't seem to notice. He took the jar from the mantle and held it up for me to see.

"This is Floo Powder. We – that is, wizards and witches – use it as transport. You take a handful of it," he took a handful of the glittering powder from the jar, "and you throw it in the fireplace. There will be green flames, very big, but they're harmless. You say where you want to go, step into the fire, and you'll be transported to your destination."

He was silent for a moment. "It may take some getting used to the first time – it goes very fast and you'll be spinning rapidly. You might find it a bit scary."

You don't say, I thought as I stared from the jar to his face and back. Something uncomfortable squirmed in my stomach and I tried to tell myself that I didn't have to worry, that it couldn't be dangerous – surely Severus would never put me through something he knew was dangerous? – but I couldn't hear my own reassurances over the roaring memory of those enormous flames. I didn't even notice Severus has said something to me until I caught sight of the questioning look in his eyes.

"Lucy? Did you hear me?" I shook my head, biting my lip. "I said, you can take a handful from the jar and you can go first, if you like."

Going first. Into enormous green flames that would swallow me whole – no, not going first, I thought as the stone in my stomach became heavier; going _alone_.

I shook my head and, trembling, stepped back. Something that looked like confusion rippled over Severus' face. "Alright – I'll go first then, and I will wait for you on the other side."

No, I thought, still shaking my head – I don't want this at all. I don't want to see those green flames and I don't want to step into them and I don't want you to step into them either – they're big and roaring and no doubt hot and they will swallow us whole and I don't – I don't –

I didn't even notice the tears brimming in my eyes until they clouded my vision and turned Severus into a blurry black shape. He didn't seem to have noticed, though, for he stood by the hearth, almost with his back to me, and did not look at me. He threw his handful of green, glittering powder into the hearth. The green, bellowing flames flared up again – and I dashed up the stairs as fast as my legs could carry me, away from the sitting room, from the glittering powder and most of all from those enormous flames. I heard Severus' call my name but didn't care – all I wanted was to run upstairs and hide behind my bed, in the wardrobe or underneath the sheets… anywhere he wouldn't find me until this whole green-flame-thing was gone.

I'd almost made it to the landing when he caught up with me. I struggled when he seized my arms, tears running down my face unhindered now, but he managed to sit me down at the top of the stairs before he crouched down a few steps below me.

"What's the matter?" His deep voice sounded calm, is a bit surprised, but it couldn't calm me as the tears dribbled from my cheeks down my chin and onto my shirt, high-pitched wails rising from my mouth in between ragged breaths.

There was something upset in his dark eyes now, something panicky, and the fingers that stroked my upper arms seemed less confident than they usually were. "Lucy," he muttered as he tried to wipe the tears from my face, and there was something panicky in his voice, too. "Luce – I don't know, I'm not really – you'll have to tell me what's the matter. Can you do that for me?"

He had to repeat himself a few times before my tears dwindled a bit and I rubbed my eyes, still sobbing softly.

"I don't like it," I mumbled. "Those big green flames… they're scary." I felt another round of tears come up and took a deep, trembling breath. "How can you just go into them – they're so big and so loud and, and – it's fire! It's hot and dangerous, and –" My sentence ended in another trail of sobs, but the hands carefully caressing my arms seemed to regain some of their confidence. "You don't have to be afraid," Severus said, and his voice sounded a lot more confident too, less panicky, and a bit relieved. "I know it looks scary – I should have remembered you're not used to these things yet – but I promise you, Lucy, you don't have to be afraid. It won't hurt you."

I was still whimpering but carefully looked up at him from underneath my tear-stained lashes. "You really promise?"

"I really promise," he said in a solemn tone. "Besides, you've seen me use it before, didn't you? When you crashed the chandelier?"

There was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and it was mostly because of that that I fully looked up to him and nodded.

"And did I catch fire when I got out of the fire? Or when I stepped back into it?" I shook my head. "Indeed. So you see, it's perfectly safe." He stood up and stretched his hand out to me, and after a short hesitation I got up too. "You go first," I said, still with a slight tremor on my voice. Severus nodded. "I'll go first, and I will wait for you on the other side."

I took a deep breath and followed him down the stairs again. The green flames still burned in the hearth, though they didn't roar anymore. Severus walked up to the hearth again, took the jar from the mantle and turned to me.

"The place we are going is called Diagon Alley. Just look at what I am doing, and then when I am gone, do the exact same thing." He held the jar in front of me and I gingerly took a handful of the glittering powder. It felt soft between my fingers, like very fine sand. Severus put the jar back on the mantle and put one foot in the green flames. Something uneasy stirred in my stomach again, but it died down quickly when I saw that while the flames did swirl around his foot, neither his shoe nor his cloak caught fire.

"Make sure to articulate very clearly," he said, "and keep your arms close to your side, that's easier. And don't be frightened," he added in a slightly softer tone. "I'll be waiting for you when you arrive. Alright?"

I took another deep breath, clenched my free hand into a fist and nodded. "Alright."

He nodded to, and then fully stepped into the fire. "Diagon Alley!" He called – and then the flames flared up and he was gone.

I looked around at the empty sitting room, and then at the green, glittery powder in my hand. I could stay here, put the powder back in its jar and go to my room to draw or read. I could – no one was here to stop me.

But Severus was waiting for me at Diagon Alley, wherever that was, and he had promised that it wasn't dangerous, that it would be alright…

I drew a deep breath, walked up to the hearth and threw the powder into it. The green flames were almost three times my size and I squeezed my nails into my palms as I stared at them and put my foot into them. They did feel warm, but to my relief it was actually quite nice, like a soft ray of sunshine. I carefully put my other foot into the flames too, so I stood encased by flames. I wrapped my arms tightly around myself and, with a final deep breath, said "Diagon Alley!"

It felt as if I was sucked into a giant drain. I'd found the roaring uncomfortable before, but it was almost deafening now. I was glad Severus had warned me about the spinning, for I was spinning around very fast and the whirling green flames made me dizzy. I clutched my arms closer around me and tried to keep my eyes open, but eventually just closed them when I got soot in them and they started to sting. I did not like this, I thought and I bit my lip just as hard as I squeezed my arms around me, I did not like this at all…

I quickly opened my eyes again when I felt I was slowing down, and just in time, too – the next moment I stumbled around in a hearth again and was caught by two hands with long, slender fingers.

Severus helped me out of the hearth, and when I looked up I was astonished to see that I indeed was not at Spinner's End anymore. Instead of our small, book-covered sitting room with its old armchair and worn-down sofa I found myself in a small, grubby pub where the tables and chairs grouped together where lit by thick, dripping candles, as was the bar. There weren't many people; there was an old man behind the bar with a head that looked like a shrivelled walnut and was just as bald, and there were a few men in funny hats at one of the tables whispering over a newspaper that lay sprawled over their table. And of course there was Severus, who looked even paler in the dim light and brushed the soot from my clothes.

"See, I told you it would be fine," He said, though his voice was lower than usual. "Well, if you're ready we can get going."

I was still a bit shaky from my rocky ride through the green flames – had I really just travelled through chimneys? – and wouldn't have minded sitting down for a bit, but something in the set of Severus' jaw and the lines in his face told me this was not the time. I followed him behind the bar and through a creaky old door onto a small courtyard surrounded by high brick walls. Aside from a small army of eager dandelions, a dented rubbish bin and the blue outside sky, there was nothing to be seen.

"Was that Diagon Alley?" I asked as Severus walked over to the wall directly opposite the door we came through. I remembered he'd said he needed new supplies for the upcoming school year, but I hadn't seen anything inside the small pub that looked like something that could be used in a school – not even a magic school.

"No," said Severus as he looked at a brick above the rubbish bin. "That was the Leaky Cauldron – it's quite famous, really, in our world. But in a way it is the entrance to Diagon Alley…" He tapped the brick three times with his wand and shot me a look from over his shoulder. " _This_ is Diagon Alley."

For the shortest of seconds I wondered how the small courtyard could possibly be a place where a potions master at a magic school could get new supplies – and then I saw that the brick Severus had tapped had begun to wriggle, that a hole had appeared in it and that that small hole grew bigger, wider – and then suddenly I found myself staring at a wide brick gateway. Behind it was a long, winding street, paved with cobblestones and lines with buildings that had to be stores – only they didn't look the slightest like any stores I'd ever seen. I wasn't sure if it was the old-fashioned look of them, like they'd just jumped out of one of my fairy tales, or if it was the curious signs above the doors, or the displays in the windows, or perhaps all of that and then something else I couldn't quite pinpoint… but to me, they were all distinctly magical.

"Woah…" I whispered in awe. Severus chuckled. "Quite the sight, isn't it? Well, come on, then – I have supplies to buy and I am guessing you wouldn't mind a closer look, would you?"

He didn't need to say that twice; I ran off before he could as much as take a step and pressed my nose against the first window. From the darkened inside of the shop I saw at least ten pairs of round, yellow eyes stare back at me and I quickly stepped back.

"What's in there," I asked as Severus caught up with me. "Owls," he said as he pointed to the sign above me, reading " _Eeylops Owl Emporium_ ". "We use them to deliver mail. I don't have an owl, but I can always use one of the Hogwarts owls should I need to send a letter."

He walked on and I followed him, past shops and windows filled with the most amazing things; cloaks like the one Severus wore, curious silver instruments, books, broomsticks that did not look like they were used to sweep the floor, small bottles filled with colourful concoctions, sturdy-looking metal cauldrons that could have hopped straight out of a witch's cottage… I found myself running from window to window as I tried to take everything in and still keep up with Severus, who walked past most of the stores and came to a halt in front of a small shop whose window was stocked with jars and barrels, all neatly labelled, and a sign above the door that read " _Apothecary_ ".

"This is where I get my supplies," he said as he pushed the door open. He went inside and I hastily followed. The inside of the store was cramped with pots, jars, barrels and boxes, the walls were lined with shelves to hold even more of these and when I looked up I saw a strange mixture of herbs, feathers, fangs, talons and thin, curved silvery horns that reminded me strongly of unicorns hanging from the ceiling. There was so much to look at I nearly didn't notice the stench inside the shop – something reminiscent of bad eggs and cabbage gone past its expiry date – but after a while the smell became too stifling and I pulled Severus' sleeve to ask if I could go outside. "Sure, but don't stray too far," he nodded as he handed the shopkeeper a long scroll of thick, waxy paper. Both happy to be out of the smelly shop and to have a chance to look around some more I skipped out the door and back onto the cobblestones. It was quite a sunny day but there weren't many people out, so I felt safe in running up and down the street to look into more windows; with so little people about, Severus wouldn't have a hard time finding me when he was done with his supplies.

As I did so, slowly more people trickled into Diagon Alley and soon it weren't just the shop windows I was looking at, but also the people that came to visit them – people, I had to remind myself, that were actual witches and wizards.

Like Severus, most of them wore cloaks, though not all of them were black. There were red robes, blue ones, emerald green, sunshine yellow, deep purple and every colour in between. There were other children, too, who were dressed more like myself and ran down the cobblestones. For a moment I thought of joining them and perhaps find myself a few new friends, but when they all stopped to look at the window with the funny looking broomsticks I decided not to; I didn't know what these broomsticks were for and I didn't want to look silly or stupid. So I ran the other way and found myself soon in front of a shop with a white and soft purple awning and a few tables in front of it. Creamy words across the purple read " _Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour_ ". I didn't know who Florean Fortescue was, but I didn't care; I did know what ice cream was. I didn't need to read more; I simply forgot everything else and made my way to that white and purple awning.

Or at least, I would have, if I hadn't tripped over a dark purple boot with high heels and adorned with silver buckles.

I caught hold of a creamy white tablecloth, but was still staggering on my feet when two hands with long, wrinkled fingers caught gentle hold of me.

"Oh, I am sorry, dear, how clumsy of me," said a deep, friendly voice. "I didn't mean to make you trip… Are you alright?" I looked up in a pair of bright blue eyes that twinkled as they looked at me over the rim of a pair of half-moon spectacles. The man that had gently seized my arms to prevent me from falling was obviously a great deal older than Severus; his face was wrinkled and his hair was a silvery grey. It was also very long and flowed over his shoulders and back like a waterfall, just like his beard, which was so long he could have easily tucked it into his belt. He wore a set of deep purple robes and a matching cloak. The small pair of glasses balanced on a long, crooked nose from underneath which he smiled very friendly.

I instantly liked him very much.

He was also so obviously magical that for a moment, I could only stare at him in awe as I realized that this was, indeed, a wizard in the truest sense of the word.

"Um – yes, I'm fine," I said when I realized it might be impolite to stare at him. "Thank you for catching me, though."

"My pleasure," said the man as he sat down at the table and crossed his legs. "And who might you be?"

"I'm Lucy," I said as I tried not to stare too obvious while at the same time I tried to take in the elaborate silver embroidery on his cloak. "Who are you?"

"I am Professor Dumbledore," he said, blue eyes twinkling as he bent a little closer to me. "Tell me, Lucy – you don't happen to have a big brother, do you?"

I smiled at the gentle face with those twinkling blue eyes, surprised. "You know Severus?"

"I certainly do," smiled Professor Dumbledore. "And does he know you're wandering around here?" I nodded. "Yes – he's buying supplies for his next school year, but the store was very smelly so I asked if I could go outside and he said it was alright." I looked around at the curious shops and their displays, the colourfully dressed people and the things they carried with them as they went from one shop to another. "It's my first time here, you know – and there is so much to _see_! I didn't know all of this could actually be real… It looks like it's from a fairy tale!"

Professor Dumbledore chuckled softly. "It does, doesn't it? And now that you mention it, Florean's ice creams taste like it, too." He shot me a slightly mischievous glance that made him look much younger than his many wrinkles suggested. "Would you like one? You can eat it while we wait for Severus to come around."

"Yes sir – thank you!" I beamed instantly. Professor Dumbledore chuckled again as he got up and stretched his hand out to me. "Let's see what they have on offer then, shall we?"

His hand felt very soft and a bit waxy when I curled my fingers around it and followed him into the ice cream parlour. Professor Dumbledore nodded to the broad-faced man behind the counter, who gave me a friendly smile as I looked around. I smiled back, and then I only stared open-mouthed, as I took in the vast spectrum of ice cream in front of me.

I had expected flavours like vanilla, chocolate, lemon and strawberry, and these were among them, but I also saw buckets labelled with Apple Pie Ice Cream, Cooking-Pear, Orange-Clove-and-Star-Anise, Basil-Avocado, English-Breakfast, Fireweed-and-Honey, Goat-Cheese-and-Beet ice cream, Lobster ice cream and Coffee- and Tea-flavoured ice cream, both of the latter with a great range of added milk, sugar, honey or cream – and so many, many more.

I walked past all the choices at least three times, followed by Professor Dumbledore who helpfully pointed out his own favourites or advised me against certain flavours. Eventually I walked out of the parlour holding a cone big enough to hold my own head and topped with Cinnamon-Hazelnut-Ginger, Cardamom-Mint and Chocolate-Raspberry-With-A-Dash-Of-Maple-Syrup, while Professor Dumbledore strolled out behind me, holding a cone of Pistachio-and-Horseradish and humming contently to himself. We sat down at a table close to the street, where I dug into my enormous cone and watched the witches and wizards sauntering about Diagon Alley as Professor Dumbledore pointed out little things every now and then.

When I was about three quarters through my ice cream Professor Dumbledore sat up a bit straighter. "Ah – it seems your presence has been missed," he said as he raised his hand and waved at someone behind me. When I turned around I saw Severus coming our way, holding a big box wrapped in brown paper and looking slightly nettled as his dark eyes darted from one way to the street to the other. When he saw Professor Dumbledore waving he frowned for a moment, but as he walked up to us he seemed to relax a little.

"I told you not to stray too far," he said as he came within earshot and put the box onto the table. "And hasn't anyone ever told you to be wary of strangers?" Dumbledore smiled faintly. "I think that is your job now, Severus." "And he said he knew you," I added as I swallowed a mouthful of ice cream, "so he's not a stranger, is he? Besides, I like him. He's nice."

Professor Dumbledore beamed and even Severus managed a faint smile, if somewhat inadvertently. "Well, I am glad to see you're in good hands. And being thoroughly spoiled," he added with a sharp look at my nearly finished ice cream. I held my cone out to him. "There is still some left if you want it… It's a little muddled now, though, so it might taste a bit funny at first."

One look at my brother's raised eyebrow told me muddled ice cream was probably not his cup of tea. "Er – no, thank you. If you're almost ready though, we can drop by Florish and Blotts for a moment – that's the book shop."

I nodded, but before I could do anything else Professor Dumbledore got up. "If you have one more moment, Severus, there is something I would like to discuss with you." I looked up just in time to see the two men exchange a rather dark, meaningful look, but none of them explained. Instead, Severus told me to stay put and finish my ice cream, and then walked off with Professor Dumbledore until they were out of earshot of both me and the rest of Diagon Alley. Since I couldn't hear what they were saying and I still had a quarter of ice cream to finish I mostly focused on that, though I did notice the tense look in their eyes and the swift, hushed way they spoke. When they came back to the table I shot both of them a questioning look, but neither Severus nor Professor Dumbledore explained.

"I will see you shortly then, Severus," said Professor Dumbledore. "And it was a delight to meet you, Lucy," he smiled down on me as I swallowed the last bit of my ice cream. "It was nice to meet you, too," I said, "and thank you for the ice cream." "My pleasure," he said, looking over his half-moon spectacles with twinkling eyes. "No doubt we'll be seeing more of each other in the future. Now, if you will excuse me…"

He nodded once more to Severus, who nodded back rather stiffly, and gently mussed my hair as he walked by. I smiled as he walked away, purple cloak and robe sweeping as he made his way through Diagon Alley, and then turned to Severus, who had taken his box of supplies from the table and beckoned me to follow him.

"I like him," I said as I skipped after him through Diagon Alley. "How do you know him?" "He's the Headmaster of Hogwarts," Severus said. There was an edge to his voice, but I paid little attention to it. "He's your boss? He must be a very nice boss," I added after a short silence, thinking about the ice cream I'd gotten from Professor Dumbledore. When Severus didn't respond I glanced up at him to see a bitter set around his mouth. I tentatively reached for his hand. "Severus? He is a nice boss, isn't he?"

The corners of his mouth pulled up in a sort of smile, but it was not a happy smile. "Sure," he said, and the bitter edge to his voice was unmistakable. Immediately after though, he took a deep breath before he glanced sideways to me. "He is. Dumbledore – he's a good man. It's just not always…" He sighed and shook his head. "It's nothing you need to worry about." He nodded ahead, to a tall building whose window was packed with stacks and stacks of books and had a sign above the door stating its name as " _Florish and Blotts_ ".

"You'll be through _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ in no time – how about we get you something for when you're through with it?"

I knew instinctively that the subject of Professor Dumbledore was closed off and did not pursue it; I didn't like the bitterness in Severus' voice.

We went inside Florish and Blotts, which was just as packed with books as its shop display. If it had any bookshelves at all, they had completely disappeared under the books they were carrying; much as if the walls themselves were coated in untidy stacks of books, and I found I actually felt right at home. "Where are the children's books?" I asked as I pulled Severus' sleeve eagerly. There was surprise in his dark eyes and he ran his hand through his hair.

"To be honest, I'm not entirely sure… But feel free to look around. Just stay away from that corner – those books aren't suitable for children." He pointed to a grubby-looking corner on the far end of the shop; it didn't look very inviting and it wasn't difficult for me to turn around and walk to another stack of books. It wasn't difficult to get absorbed by them, either, for it soon became clear that they were as obviously magical as Professor Dumbledore. I didn't find any fairy tales; I did find books on spells, on history, on herbs, on fortune telling, on animals and creatures I'd never even imagined, let alone thought could be real. A stocky little man eyed be with something close to suspicion as I eagerly ran my hands and eyes past the great leather books and the titles on their spines and he asked me rather sourly if I was looking for something in particular. However, his attitude changed completely when I told him I'd never been to Diagon Alley before and only recently learned that I, too, was a witch, and within moments he helped me gathering books he thought suitable for young witches.

When he'd shown me just about everything Florish and Blotts had to offer I sought my way back to Severus, now half hidden behind a pile of books almost taller than I was myself. I'd found a bunch of very thick history books, some with very pretty pictures in them, a very old book on herbs and a few books on spells the stocky little man assured me would be a very nice start for a little witch, even if I wasn't old enough to practise them yet.

Severus was standing in the corner by the window, emerged in a small book with a weathered black cover and the almost peaceful expression I'd seen so many times when he was reading. I was just about to call his name over my stack of volumes when –

"Severus!"

In the instant it took for my brother to hear his name the tranquil expression on his face turned into a deep crease between his eyebrows; then he raised his head and turned to see who called him, and so did I.

Behind me was a man, tall as Severus was but perhaps a little older, with a pale, pointy face and very light blonde hair that was tied back in a ponytail. He walked up to my brother with the air of a man who is used to being obeyed, smiling, but his grey eyes were cold and calculating.

I disliked him the moment I met his eyes and couldn't help my own eyes narrowing as he walked past me, brushing me aside as if I wasn't even there as he stretched his hand out to Severus.

"Good do see you – you've been doing well then, I take it?" He said in a drawling voice that wasn't nearly as deep as my brother's. He clutched his hand around Severus' in a possessive sort of manner that made me want to slap his hand away. Severus nodded curtly as he looked the man in the eye. "Lucius," he said, and, nodding to some point behind me, "Narcissa." I turned around to see a young woman with long blonde hair behind me, standing behind what looked like a very antique stroller which held a little boy, also white-blond. When I turned back I saw Severus had noticed me, and I felt a smidge of smug satisfaction when he moved past the haughty blonde man and towards me.

"There you are – did you find anything you like?" Seeing as I was holding a stack of books I nearly disappeared behind I found that rather obvious, and without thinking I raised my eyebrow in the same way Severus so often did. A soft, melodious laugh came from the blonde young woman, who'd pushed the stroller up until she was standing next to me. "She reminds me of you, Severus – is she related?" she asked in a voice that was haughty like the man's voice, but also softer and a bit gentler. Severus' lips curled into a faint smile. "My sister – Lucy, this is Narcissa Malfoy, and that is her husband, Lucius Malfoy." Mr. Malfoy stepped towards me, holding out his hand. "Pleasure to meet you, Lucy," he said in his haughty drawl. I briefly shook his hand but didn't return the courtesy; instead a muttered a vague "uh uh" before I turned to the lady with the stroller; I liked her better than her cold and arrogant husband.

"Who is this?" I asked as I stood on tiptoe and peered into the stroller. The little boy in the stroller had a pointy chin and grey eyes, just like his father, but lacked his haughty attitude as he waved a silver rattler and ran his chubby fingers through his thin blond hair, making it stand up straight.

Mrs. Malfoy's face softened a bit as she looked at the little boy. "That's our son, Draco. He just turned two last month."

"So he's really still a baby," I muttered as I looked at the boy. "Hello Draco, I'm Lucy." Draco stopped waving his rattler to give me an intent stare before he uttered an adorable baby giggle and waved his plump little fingers at me. I giggled too and waved back, bending closer. Draco seemed to like this for he crooned and stretched his hand out to me. "Hello," I giggled again and I stretched out my own hand to pat the little blonde hairs standing upright on his head. The boy laughed again, louder now, and reached for my own long, red hair. "You want to pet mine?" I said as I gathered a lock from over my shoulder. "Here…" Draco's little fingers carefully curled around my hair and his grey eyes widened. "Oeehhh…" He crooned as his fingertips ran over the ends of my hair. "Preeettyy..." Giggling, I ran my fingers through his hair again; it was very soft and downy. "Yours is pretty too – and nice and soft." Next to me, Mrs. Malfoy smiled gently and ran her finger past Draco's cheek. "My handsome little boy," she muttered softly. Draco grabbed her finger and shot her a dazzling smile, but then a shadow fell over the stroller. Mr. Malfoy had stepped closer; I hadn't noticed that while I was playing when Draco, he had stepped back to talk to Severus, but now I did notice and that feeling of aversion came right back.

"Well, that's that, then – Severus, I will keep you posted. Lucy, it was, again, very nice to meet you." He looked at me sharply, even compelling, as if he tried to force me to tell him I'd found it nice to have met him, too. If he did, I was saved by Severus, who put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Please do. If you'd excuse us now – Lucy, let's go pay for your books and then we can head home. Goodbye Narcissa."

Narcissa nodded, suddenly back into the haughty veneer she'd shed when she was looking at her son. "We'll see you around then, Severus."

Severus lead me to the counter, where he paid for all the books I was carrying without even asking what they were about, and then ushered me out the store, down the street and back to the Leaky Cauldron, where we used Floo Powder to return to Spinner's End.

That evening we both returned to the sitting room with our books, but instead of reading I stared at the fireplace, _The Tales Of Beedle The Bard_ unopened on my lap.

"I liked Professor Dumbledore," I said thoughtfully. Severus made a non-committal sound from behind his book.

"I didn't like Mr. Malfoy," I continued, a little firmer. "He's cold and I don't like his voice, or his eyes. They're cold, too."

Severus made another sound but it didn't sound as vague as before, and I knew he was listening. "We don't have to see him again, do we?"

"You don't have to, but I probably will," Said Severus, eyes still on his book. I sighed. "I don't like you having to see him. He's not nice. Why do you have to be around someone who is not nice? I think you should go and see Professor Dumbledore, instead."

Severus chuckled and looked over the edge of his book. "It sounds as if you are telling me who I can and can't play with." I shot him a sullen look.

"You'd tell me if you thought someone wasn't nice, wouldn't you? Wouldn't you?" I repeated until he nodded. He still chuckled and I felt a little indignant. "Well then, I don't like Mr. Malfoy," I added as resolute as I could.

"Fine, you don't like him," Severus said, though I still heard the faint snigger in his voice. "What about Draco?"

"Draco is a baby," I responded rather loftily. "All babies are cute."

"Fine, then you can go play with the cute baby while I talk to Mr. Malfoy, if we ever have to see them again." I could feel he was still laughing at me and I heaved a deep sigh, exasperated by his stubbornness. I opened my book and hid behind it like he did, like I didn't truly care – but I did care and I couldn't keep it up for very long.

"We do have to see them again though, don't we?" I said after a few minutes of silence. Severus sighed, but it sounded resigned rather than annoyed. "Yes. Or at least I do."

"Why?" I looked at him, book lowered to my lap, until he looked at me over the edge of his. "Why, Severus?"

The dark eyes looked resigned too, and a little wistful. "Because sometimes we have to do things we don't really want to do, I guess."

"Oh." I let that sink in for a bit.

"Will you promise me you will at least keep seeing Professor Dumbledore, too?"

The right corner of his mouth pulled up in a crooked smile.

"I promise."


	6. Chapter 6

(Aaand the finished Chapter 6 :) )

 **Chapter 6.**

The sun had hardly risen above the rooftops but it was already way too hot. I kicked the thin sheets off my legs as I tried to find a position that was not too warm. In vain, of course. Everything was too warm – the sheets I used more out of habit than because I needed them, the thin t-shirt I slept in, even the faint light that sneaked around the edges of the curtain. I sighed as I sprawled my limbs as much as I could, and decided the only thing that could help me cool down at least a bit was a shower, preferably ice cold.

At the moment I thought it I heard the floorboards outside my door creak. I whipped my head around; another creak followed, slightly past my door now.

"Oh no, you don't," I muttered and then I whirled myself out of bed. I bumped into the stack of thick leather-bound books on my nightstand and they fell to the floor with a series of heavy _thuds_ , but I was already at the door, yanking it open just in time to see the bathroom door closing.

"No – Sev, don't you dare! It's _my_ turn to – Ugh!" The bathroom door had closed and I heard Severus lock it from the inside. I hit it hard with my flat hand, but of course that didn't do much good. Knowing it could take a while before Severus would emerge from the bathroom again I turned around and started making my way down the landing and down the stairs, muttering under my breath.

The curtains in the sitting room were all still drawn, which was a relief because it made the room relatively cool. The kitchen window didn't catch any sunlight until later on the day, so I slightly opened the curtains to let some light in. The kitchen tiles were cool under my bare feet and I resisted the urge to just lie down on the floor and soak up the cool; instead I put on the kettle and rummaged around in the drawer for matches. If Severus had gone down first he'd have lit the fire with a flick of his wand – but of course the selfish sod had to hog the shower – while it was my turn to shower first, no less!

I found myself muttering mild insults as I put leaves of mint in the kettle and looked at my reflection in the window.

Severus always said I'd inherited the best of our parents while he inherited the worst, and while I invariably told him that wasn't true I did understand what he meant. Over the past five years I'd lost most of my puppy-fat, but where that skinniness made Severus look meager and almost puny, it made me look slender and elfin, and with my long red hair and deep blue eyes I hardly resembled him – though over the years I'd proven more than once that I mastered his piercing stare and arched eyebrow as well as he did. We had the same pale skin though, the same smile, and the same frown and tight set around our mouths when we were angry. And unfortunately, I thought as I stepped away from the heating tea kettle, we both wanted to be the first to take a shower in the morning. Which was why we'd made a schedule… which Severus still chose to blatantly ignore whenever he could get away with it.

I signed and, trying to put my mind to other issues, wondered if I'd whip up some pancakes for breakfast. Seeing as that meant more heat on the stove top I cast the option aside and mixed together some oats, yoghurt, honey and a few strawberries I found in the fridge. Munching my breakfast I sat down at the kitchen table while waiting for the kettle – and the shower – and had nearly finished half my bowl when I heard a ticking on the kitchen window. I put down my breakfast, got up and pushed the curtain aside to see a large grey eagle owl perched on the windowsill. I opened the window so it could hop inside and turned to the drawer next to the window to see if we still had a few Knuts lying around, but when I turned back I saw that the owl, now perched on the back of my chair and stretching its wings, was holding out an envelope of yellowed parchment rather than the Daily Prophet. I groaned – Professor Dumbledore hardly wrote to Severus if he needed him; he usually used the Floo Powder if it was an urgent message and saw him almost daily at Hogwarts, with the exception of the school holidays. Lucius Malfoy did write letters, however, and personally I could find more likable ways to start my morning than with news from Mr. Malfoy. The owl didn't care much for my grumpiness, though, and impatiently flapped its wings as it stared at me with its large yellow eyes. Sighing deeply, I took the letter from its beak. "What does he want now?" I muttered as the owl stretched its wings and took off again through the open window. My eyes darted to the handwriting on the front of the envelope – and froze.

 _Miss L.A. Snape_

 _The Second Room On The Landing_

 _Spinner's End_

 _Cokeworth_

 _English Midlands_

I held my breath as I whipped the envelope around. At the back was a purple wax seal, a crest depicting a lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake centered on a large "H".

It was the crest that was on the official letters Severus received from Professor Dumbledore – from Hogwarts.

My hands trembled as I carefully broke the seal and pulled out a letter of waxy, yellowed parchment.

 _HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

 _Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

 _(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

 _Dear Miss Snape,_

 _We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcr-_

The tea kettle whistled loudly but I didn't hear it; my feet drummed against the steps as I ran back up the stairs, my letter firmly in my left hand. "Sev!" I sprinted down the landing to the bathroom door and pounded it with my free hand.

"Sev, open up, _open UP!_ "

Still pounding the door I glanced down at the letter to make sure I really, _really_ wasn't mistaken – and then I heard a perplexed " _oomph!"_ as my hand hit something soft.

I looked up to see Severus in a pair of black trousers, a white undershirt and damp hair; judging by his pained expression I had just punched him in his stomach. "Oh good, you're out," I said. "Come on – you need to get dressed, we need to go!"

I grabbed his wrist and tried dragging him down the landing, and scowled at him when he didn't cooperate. "Sev, _hurry up!_ "

"What's your hurry?" Hanging on his arm with my full weight I waved the parchment envelope at him. " _This!_ This is my –" Then I saw the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth and my scowl turned into an expression of utmost indignation.

"You knew!" His grin broke through fully now, but I still glared at him. " _You bloody knew_!"

"So did you – I told you so many times you'd get your letter when you were eleven," he chuckled. "But not _today_! I didn't know it would arrive _today_ , and _you did!_ " I tried punching him again but this time he smoothly evaded me. "Of course I did – I work there, I know when those letters go out the door. Now, are you going to take a shower and get dressed or should I let Dumbledore know you'd rather not go to Hogwarts?" I still glowered at him, but all he did was grin as he raised his eyebrow.

"You better be dressed and have had your breakfast by the time I come down!" I told him as stern as I could, before turning around and hurry to the bathroom with as much dignity as I could muster. I'd hardly locked the door behind me when I realized I'd forgotten to take clean clothes with me and groaned between my teeth before I unlocked the door again and stomped out and into my bedroom. Severus wasn't on the landing anymore but I could hear him chuckle from the stairs. Hot-cheeked, I groaned even loader and slammed the bathroom door behind me as I got back inside.

Severus had indeed had his breakfast when I came down, dressed and wrestling my still damp hair into a messy pony tail, and much to my frustration he was still grinning. I pretended not to notice, however, and kept my chin up as I strode past him, took my cloak from the peg and then tip-toed to reach the jar of Floo Powder on the mantel piece. "I take it you are ready?" I said in a voice that sounded snooty even to my own ears. "Sure," Severus grinned as he stepped past me and took his own cloak from the peg. "Are you sure you are, though? You seem a bit edgy." I glared at him as he took the jar of Floo Powder from the mantel, but all he did was grin that stupid grin as he threw a handful of Powder into the hearth and turned to look at me. "Are you going first, or do you need me to go first and wait for you?"

I wished I had punched harder when I'd accidentally hit him in the stomach earlier. Gritting my teeth, I swept past him and put my foot into the green flames. "Hurry up," I said as I raised an eyebrow at him. "Diagon Alley!" I added as I turned back to the hearth. I let myself be engulfed by the massive flames and kept my arms crossed in front of me. It was strange to think that five years ago I had been terrified by the rapid spinning – now it didn't go nearly fast enough. It seemed to take hours before I slowed down and stumbled into the hearth of the Leaky Cauldron. I stepped out brushing the soot from my clothes and tried to smooth my hair when a new round of emerald flames flared into the hearth and Severus stepped out. Much to my frustration he still had that smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Finally," I sneered as he, too, brushed the soot from his cloak. "Get going, will you?" I turned to lead the way to the back door and the wall to Diagon Alley and pretended not to hear him chuckling. I wished I could have opened the wall myself, but instead I was forced to wait for my infuriating big brother to do it for me – who, of course, took his time. When the familiar cobblestoned road with its crooked shops appeared I sprinted straight ahead, my hair a blurred red streak in the windows I passed. "Hold on," Severus called behind me, "shouldn't you check what you need before you head off?"

Reluctantly, I slowed down and stopped as I pulled the envelope from the back pocket of my jeans. Behind the letter was a list and I skimmed through it as fast as I could.

 _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

 _Uniform_

 _First-year students will require:_

 _1._ _Three sets of plain work robes (black)_

 _2._ _One plain pointed had (black) for day wear_

 _3._ _One pair of protective groves (dragon hide or similar)_

 _4._ _One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings_

 _Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags._

 _Course Books:_

 _All students should have a copy of each of the following:_

 _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk_

 _A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot_

 _Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling_

 _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emetic Switch_

 _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore_

 _Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger_

 _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander_

 _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble_

 _Other Equipment:_

 _Wand_

 _Cauldron (Pewter, standard size 2)_

 _Set of glass or crystal phials_

 _Telescope set_

 _Brass scales_

 _Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad._

 _PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS._

I was familiar with most of the books on my list as Severus kept them in our book cases at home, and I wasn't really bummed about the line about the broomsticks; shortly after my first visit to Diagon Alley I'd plucked up the courage to talk to the children looking at the broomsticks at Quality Quidditch Supplies and since I'd mostly found them dull and boorish I soon lost interest in their main subject as well. The thing I was most looking forward to, however, seemed to be highlighted on the list whenever I glanced at it. A wand. My heart jumped when I thought of it, of having my own and to be able to do my own magic the way Severus could. Of course I knew under-age Hogwarts students weren't allowed to do magic outside of school – Severus had mentioned it multiple times – but still… To me, having a wand seemed to make it all real, a sort of final initiation into being a witch.

"Where to first?" Severus said, striding towards me as he caught up. I shot him an incredulous look and tapped the word "wand" on the list, but he smiled shrewdly as he skimmed the list himself. "How about Madam Malkin's? You don't want to feel out of place without robes, do you?"

The glimmer in his dark eyes made it all to clear he was taking the mickey out of me, but still I groaned in frustration and punched his upper arm. "No way! I don't care about robes – we're going to Ollivander's!" He chuckles as I turned around and started down the street again, but then put his hand on my shoulder and stopped me.

"Of course we're going to Ollivander's," he said and I was relieved to see that infuriation smirk made place for a faint but genuine smile. "But you've just passed by Potage's Cauldron Shop and you're going to need a cauldron as well – or were you planning to skip all of my classes this year?"

I looked longingly ahead of the street where I knew Ollivander's wand shop to be just around the corner, but sighed and shook my head. "No…" I muttered slightly unwilling. "Alright then… just –" I looked down the street again before looking up to Severus. "Can we be quick? I mean, it doesn't have to be any special kind of cauldron – a simple one would do…"

"We'll be quick," Severus assured as he took my hand and led me back in the direction I just came from. "And you're getting a standard pewter cauldron, size 2 – just like it says on your list. I'm pretty sure they'll have them ready, you won't be the only Hogwarts student getting their school supplies."

There were so many cauldrons in so many sizes inside of Potage's Cauldron Shop that I couldn't have said which one I needed even if I'd wanted to. Severus, however, only looked at the shopkeeper and said "Hogwarts"; the shopkeeper instantly shuffled out from behind his counter to take a cauldron of about 17 inches high and 17 inches deep from a stack behind the door. Severus paid for it and for a brass telescope as well and to my relief we were outside again within a few minutes. I wanted to move straight to the wand shop, but it seemed I had ran past quite a few shops before and Severus took me to the Apothecary next to buy a set of brass scales, a set of the best quality crystal phials and potion ingredients.

"There aren't any ingredients on the list," I said as he put them down on the counter to pay for them. He smiled faintly and handed the shopkeeper five Galleons and two Sickles. "No, but you'll still need them – and trust me, you'll be going through them at such a fast rate you'll thank me later. Now, what's next?"

By the glint in his eye I could tell he knew all too well where I wanted to go next, but I glanced at the list and shrugged. "Well, Madam Malkin's _is_ next down the street – might as well have it over and done with." "Are you sure? I don't mind going a bit criss-cross." I arched an eyebrow as I rolled my eyes at him. "Don't pretend this isn't what you wanted in the first place. We'll go get robes first, then the books and then Ollivander's – and then we can go for ice cream at Florean's after."

"As you wish, my lady," Severus chuckled and he opened the door, letting me go out first.

Luckily for me, Madam Malkin had her standard Hogwarts robes at the ready and all she needed for me was to stand on a stool as she pinned them to the right side. Severus waited in the corner without speaking, his dark eyes darting through the shop and to the witch tending to my new robes every now and then. Judging by the reticent looks she cast him it seemed to make her a bit uncomfortable and I tried to reassure her by telling her he was my brother, but it didn't seem to help much and eventually I was happy to be outside again.

Flourish and Blotts was a lot more fun; since my first visit I'd become quite friendly with the stocky little shopkeeper, Mr. Schuler, and I knew my way around the store even better than Severus. Upon entering, Mr. Schuler smiled brightly at me and came out from behind his counter. Severus, knowing I could very well handle myself here, gentle squeezed my shoulder before disappearing between the stacks of books.

"Lucy, dear," Mr. Schuler said, "what will it be today? You're not through that volume of fourteen-century witch trials yet, are you?"

"No," I shook my head, smiling back. "But I need your help with something else – Hogwarts business." I couldn't help smiling an ear-splitting grin as I showed him my letter and my list.

"My, my – already? These past five years sure have gone by fast – it seems only yesterday you came in here for the first time," he muttered. "And now you're off to Hogwarts already… well come along then, we'll get your books." He grinned back at me as he beckoned me to follow him and I happily skipped after him. This took a bit longer than getting my cauldron or my robes, as Mr. Schuler also handed me a few other useful books along with the books on my list and on top of that advised me on certain chapters and subject that could come in handy for my first year at Hogwarts.

When we met Severus at the counter to pay for the pile of books I had yet again managed to attract he raised his eyebrows – of course he knew very well not all of these books were on my list – but he still paid and thanked Mr. Schuler for his help.

As we put the books in my new cauldron and stepped outside I felt a fluttering in my stomach as I looked at the nearby corner, but before I could move someone behind me called my name.

"Hey – Lucy!"

I turned around just in time to catch a pair of grey eyes in a pale face. As he'd grown, Draco Malfoy had turned from an adorable baby into a seven-year old who looked more like his father every day – much to my displeasure – but now he grinned at me with an eagerness his father never had managed.

"Hi Draco," I smiled back. "How's it going?"

"Fine," he answered as he slicked back his blond hair. "Mother and father are next door – Mother needed new dress robes after our house elf ruined hers – we're going to look and the latest racing brooms in a bit. How are you?"

"Couldn't be better – guess what I got today," I grinned as I held out my letter. Draco's eyes widened and for a moment he looked like the sweet boy with the fluffy hair from five years ago. "You got your letter? Woah! I can't wait until I get mine," he said as he looked at the Hogwarts crest in awe. "To think it's going to be four more years…"

"Well at least we'll be there together for a few years," I smiled. "I could show you around and help you get settled."

"I bet we'll even be in the same House!" Draco's grin widened as he looked at Severus. "You have to get in Slytherin – I mean, your brother's the Head of House, it'd be crazy if you wouldn't! And of course I will, too – it'd be great!" I chuckled as I messed up his carefully slicked back hair. "You can't know which House you'll get into yet, silly. Perhaps we'll both get completely different Houses – who knows." But Draco scoffed and shook his head. "Nah, we'll both be in Slytherin, you just wait and see. You will write, won't you? You have to tell me everything!" I smiled at his eager eyes and the faint blush colouring his pale face – but then a shadow fell over him as two adults walked up behind him.

"Severus, Lucy, how nice to see you," said Lucius Malfoy. Upon hearing his voice, Draco straightened and the eager gleam in his eyes faded as he copied his father's haughty expression and pose. My own eyes narrowed as I looked up at Mr. Malfoy, resisting the urge to glare at him. Severus put his hand on my shoulder. "Hello Lucius, Narcissa. I trust you are well?"

"Very well, thank you," said Mrs. Malfoy as she shot me a haughtly but soft smile; I managed a faint smile back. "And how are you, Lucy?"

"Very good – we're going to buy my wand now," I said as I tried to step backwards and push Severus back, too. I liked Mrs. Malfoy better than Mr. Malfoy, but still I preferred to get out of there as soon as possible. To my relief Severus stepped back immediately, but we weren't let off that easily.

"Your wand? You've received your letter already, then?" Mrs. Malfoy said as she looked up at my brother. "You must be very proud, Severus." Above me Severus nodded. "Certainly – I have no doubt she'll do very well at Hogwarts." "Of course she will," Mr. Malfoy said. He smiled at me as if he was handing me the most wonderful gift – a smile that, as usual, did not reach his eyes. "And do you know what House you'll be in, Lucy?"

I did not lower my eyes to his gaze and was about to tell him no one could know their House before they were Sorted when Draco grinned and blurted out "Slytherin, of course!"

"Don't interrupt, Draco," Mr. Malfoy snapped. "We have raised you better than that, have we not?" Something sharp flashed in Draco's eyes before he lowered his gaze and squared his shoulders. "Of course - I'm sorry, Father." Mr. Malfoy looked down sternly at his son for another moment before he looked back at me. "Though Draco does have a point; I am sure you will prove a very valuable new asset to Slytherin," he said in a rather possessive tone.

The corners of my mouth were set tightly and I felt a sharp remark burn on the tip of my tongue, but Severus' hand on my shoulder pulled me back a little.

"I'm sure she'll prove an asset to Hogwarts as a whole," he said, "but we must be off now – we still have a wand to buy and we're a little short of time today. I'm sure we'll see you soon again, Lucius, Narcissa."

Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy nodded and said their goodbyes. As Severus took my hand I shot Draco a slightly apologetic smile and waved at him; he waved back and managed a faint smile before slipping back into his father's pose and shadow. I turned around to walk beside Severus with a slightly heavy heart.

It didn't stay heavy for long, though, for a few minutes later we rounded the corner and my eyes were drawn to the narrowest and shabbiest shop in all of Diagon Alley. Above the door, peeling gold letters told passers-by that this was the shop of "Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C"

Ollivanders hadn't attempted to gaudy up their merchandise as other shopkeepers had; there was only a single wand in the dusty window, displayed on a faded prupe cushion.

Severus pushed open the door and kept it open so I could walk in; a soft tinkling bell sounded through the shop as he opened and closed the door when he followed me inside.

I hadn't been in here before, unlike the other shops at Diagon Alley, and I was amazed by the sheer tininess of the shop. It was completely empty, save for a rickety chair in the corner and the thousands and thousands of narrow boxed, neatly stacked all the way up to the ceiling. It was very silent and, I found, very uncomfortable. I wasn't sure if that was because of the silence, the emptiness, the absence of other people or even a shopkeeper, or perhaps the hundreds of secrets that seemed to be hidden in the dust under my feet and the air I breathed.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. My heart lurched and I whipped my head around and the old, tall man that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. "H-hi," I said as I glanced at Severus from the corner of my eye; he hadn't moved an inch and seemed unsurprised by the man's sudden appearance.

"Good afternoon, Ollivander," he said solemnly. "My sister is in need of a wand."

Mr. Ollivander did not take his pale, gleaming eyes off me as he studied my face without blinking. "Your sister… yes, yes of course… I wonder, Severus Snape, if she'll prefer the same sort of wand that chose you… Rowan, 12 inches, quite rigid yet very suitable for charms. Of course," he turned to me again, "it doesn't really matter what you would prefer – it is the wand that chooses the wizard, or the witch, in this case."

He pulled a long tape measure from his pocket, which stood upright on its own as soon as it hit the ground. "Well, now, let's get to the basics first, shall we? Which is your wand arm?"

I wondered how I was supposed to know that if I – apart from that one time I borrowed Severus' wand – had never used a wand before, but held out my right arm just the same. Mr. Ollivander began measuring just about everything there was to measure about me; the distance from my shoulder to my fingertips, elbow to wrist, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round my head. I glanced at Severus again, hoping he could tell me what this was supposed to mean, but he only shrugged and watched.

As the tape measure continued to measure the length and distance between my fingers Mr. Ollivander turned around and began to collect boxes from the piles and shelves surrounding us.

"That would be enough," he said and the tape measure curled itself up in a neat spiral on the rickety chair.

"Now, Miss Snape – every wand in this shop has a core of a powerful magical substance – the three cores we use here are unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers and the heartstrings of dragons. None of them are in any way the same," he added rather sharply, as if I'd suggested anything of the sort, "and of course, the best result is reached with the wand that chooses you."

He brushed the dust of a rectangular box and handed it to me.

"Let's try this one – Birch and unicorn hair, eight inches. Very swishy." I lifted the lid and took the wand out of the box. It felt rather stiff between my fingers and I gave it an uncertain wave. Mr. Ollivander shook his head and took the wand from me again and instantly handed me another one. "No – blackthorne and phoenix feather, rather rigid, ten inches – go ahead – "

But that one didn't seem right either, for I'd hardly curled my fingers around it when Mr. Ollivander snatched it back again. "Not it, not it – well how about this one then; willow and dragon heartstring, nine inches, quite bendy – do try – "

I wanted to – but hardly a chance was given when Mr. Ollivander took it away again and instantly replaced it by the next. As he eagerly muttered "Mahogany and phoenix feather, quite a temper, seven and a half inches" I glanced at Severus. "What is he looking for?" I whispered as Mr. Ollivander took the mahogany wand away again. Severus shrugged and grinned faintly as he sat down on the rickety chair. "You'll see – prepare yourself, though, this might take a while."

"Ebony and unicorn hair, six and a half inches, pliant," Mr. Ollivander said, as he handed and snatched away another wand. "No, no – Maple and dragon heartstring then, eleven inches, rather whippy. Come on, give it a – ah, no, no – this one then, here – "

As I took wand after wand after wand from Mr. Ollivander I realized he was well prepared to let me try out every wand in his shop if he had to. The pile next to me grew higher and higher, and with every wand he added to it Mr. Ollivander seemed to grow more excited.

"Rosewood and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple – no! No, well then how about this one, Oak and unicorn, fourteen and a half inch, unyielding – no, no, definitely not – then try this one, holly and dragon heartstring, thirteen inches, slightly springy – "

And then suddenly I knew what Mr. Ollivander was looking for. When my fingers curled around the smooth handle of the holly wand suddenly I felt a warm flow traveling from my fingertips all the way through my body. Without thinking I waved it – and was both shocked and thrilled to see a stream of deep purple and soft pink sparks come out of the end.

Mr. Ollivander clapped his hand and Severus grinned as I stared at the sparks as they dissolved into air, and then at the wand between my fingers. "Woah…" I whispered. Mr. Ollivander gently took the holly wand from me and put it back in its box before handing it back to me. He nodded at Severus as he paid his seven Galleons, and nodded at me too as Severus took my hand and lead me out of the shop again.

(Next step... well, you know where the next step will be ;) If you guys have any ideas, suggestions or suspicions as to where Lucy will be Sorted, feel free to let me know ^_^ )


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